


redamancy

by jongleur



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dystopian, Fluff, M/M, Romance, lil angst, what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 10:58:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jongleur/pseuds/jongleur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>dystopian au.</p><p>Harry lives in a world where, at the age of 18, everyone gets paired up with a life mate, a perfectly compatible partner. When Harry gets Liam Payne as his soul mate, he thinks nothing of it. It must be true love, right?</p><p>But then he meets Louis Tomlinson, a 19 year old who is already partnered up. Harry starts to fall for Louis, and it is not unrequited, but it is against the law.</p><p>Harry had always known he’d end up breaking some rules, he just hadn’t quite imagined the magnitude of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	redamancy

**Author's Note:**

> so! here's my december story. i really enjoyed this one! this one shot was a bit inspired by my old copy of the giver by lois lowry so i hope you guys like it.  
> 10k yes! merry late christmas!

When Harry was little, before going to bed every night, his mother, Anne, used to tell him all sorts of wonderful fairy tales.

He remembers one in particular about a girl—he can’t remember her name now— who was treated awfully by her step-mother and step-sisters. One day, with the help of a magical godmother, she went to the kingdom’s ball, where the prince fell madly in love with her; a couple of shortcomings later, and she and the prince married.

There was another in which a mermaid fell in love with a prince, and she became a human in order to be with him and get married.

But Harry’s paramount fairy tale was the one where a dalmatian made his owner fall into a pond which resulted on him falling in love with another dalmatian owner. He remembers that one with a fond laugh.

Harry had asked his mother if she had met father that way, but she had only laughed, shook her head and explained,

“Harry, those are fairy tales. That doesn’t happen in real life, ok?”

Harry had frowned, confused, but nodded nonetheless.

It wasn’t until much later, probably in his early teens, that he realized what his mother had meant.

In the  _real world_ people didn’t meet their husbands and wives that way. They met through tests. Tests that each individual had to take from the age of thirteen till the age of eighteen; The tests’ (physical and psychological) purpose was to partner up each person with another one, so they could make a  _whole_ , as they called it, or more commonly known as a  _life partner._

The fairy tales were just that, fairy tales. How could humans find their soul mate just like that? By fate or destiny? Chances of that happening were zero to none, Harry had understand.

His mother still has those books, up in the highest place of her bookshelf; whenever Harry glances at them by chance, he shakes his head fondly at his younger and naive little self. He knows now, he knows the  _real_  world.

//

Harry has been eighteen for exactly ten months when the annual ceremony of life mates begins.

All the eighteen year old girls and boys go to their nearest _Palace of Wholes,_ where, like its name indicates, they get the name of their life mate, of their whole.

The name they get is irreversible, irrefutable, and indisputable. They get what they get and that is that. It’s not like anyone ever gets someone they don’t like, the tests were made for  _something_ , and everyone always ends up happy and satisfied and ready to love.

Harry has been waiting for his life mate practically his whole life, he’s a romantic at heart and he doesn’t try to hide the fact.

As he walks towards the Palace (which is not really a palace, but a stone walled, giant government building) he wonders the kind of boy or girl he will get partnered with; he doesn’t have much preference, but he has a hunch and he thinks it will be a boy.

His sister Gemma pinches his cheek and tells him she’ll be right outside waiting for him as only the annual eighteen year olds are allowed inside the building, so most people only enter once in their life time.

He takes a deep and nervous breath before entering the building, and it is only when he is inside that he exhales, loudly but still shaky. This is the beginning of his adulthood, after all.

He knows what’s next, and so he looks for the right wing, where other teens-soon-to-be-adults are already in line. There’s still not so many people in there as Harry made sure to be there as early as possible; for a moment he wonders if his whole is there, in London, or if they went to Manchester’s Palace of Wholes or perhaps Liverpool’s. He wonders if they were as excited to be there as him or if they will get there when the building is about to close.

The line gets shorter and shorter and Harry gets fidgety and antsy with each person that gets handed a tiny card. And then it’s his turn.

“Name and place, please.” A blond woman with hair in a tight bun asks without giving him a glance.

He stutters out a shaky  _Harry Edward Styles, Cheshire_ , and the woman types it out in her computer with exact precision, never taking her eyes off the screen.

She asks him to press his thumb’s fingerprint on a small scanner and Harry does so quickly; the woman nods and a small card, like the ones he had seen earlier, gets printed out from the scanner.

The blonde swiftly points to the card before calling out a “Next!”

Harry grabs the slick card before rushing out of the cold office.

When he gets outside, he, once again, takes a deep breath, clutching the card to his chest with tight hands as if it was the most precious thing in the world. It kind of is, for him, at least.

He reads it.

 **Liam Payne, Wolverhaptom.** (received)

Harry gasps. That’s him, that’s his soul mate, isn’t it?

There’s a number below his whole’s – _Liam_ , he reminds himself—name, it is Liam’s phone number, a way to contact each other. He also knows what the words in parenthesis mean; it means Liam has already received his card too. It means he already knows Harry’s name!

Harry smiles as he realizes that Liam Payne of Wolverhaptom must be an early riser too.

//

It’s been two months since Harry first saw Liam Payne.

The same day he received his card Gemma had made him call Liam, since his other whole wouldn’t be able to know when Harry had received his card. They arranged to meet up the very next day in London.

Liam is tall, almost as tall as Harry himself, but where Harry is lanky with a few well defined muscles here and there, Liam is lean, and broad shouldered, and is muscle everywhere. The boy has abs. Abs. Liam had told him that it’s because he frequents the gym regularly. Harry had nodded sagely and encouraged him to keep on going.

Where Harry has a head of curly locks and bright green eyes, Liam has faux-hawk that goes well with his warm and kind brown eyes. They’re sort of different and Harry has found he quite likes that. They can spend hours upon hours talking or watching tv and Harry feels like Liam belongs right there by his side.

However, and he will never,  _ever_  say this to anyone, he thinks fairy tales exaggerated when they described love. It’s not that he doesn’t love Liam, he does, but he just thinks love might have been…overrated.

He’s ashamed to thinks so, even more when Liam is next to him talking about how he wants Harry to meet his best friend Niall Horan. They had taken the tube and are now walking towards Niall’s new flat (Liam and Harry had moved to London a month after they met).

“You will like him, H,” Liam smiles and Harry nods with a grin, “and his whole too. He’s quite nice too.”

“Well, we’re very nice too, don’t you think?” Harry asks as he dangles their clasped hands.

“Don’t be conceited.” Liam rolls his eyes with a smile, and Harry just laughs.

“We  _are_.”

They get to a red brick building, where Liam buzzes in.

“Come in, babe!” a boisterous voice says through the speakers.

“That’d be Niall then.” Liam laughs and guides Harry towards a flight of staircases all the way to top floor.

“Isn’t there an elevator? My legs can’t be used for more tan ten minutes at a time Li.” Harry whines.

“C’mon, you’re always saying exercising is good, you goof!”

“That’s because I want you to keep the abs.”

When they finally get to Niall’s floor Harry takes a quick look at the flat’s number.

“221B?” he tells Liam, grinning from ear to ear, “Really?”

Liam scrunches up his eyebrows in confusion, “Yes.  _Why_?”

Harry stares at him before shaking his head and adding hollowly, “Nothing, love, nothing.”

When they get inside, the first thing Harry notices—or more like,  _feels_ —is a jumping blond who grabs at his face rowdily.

“You must be Harry! My Liam’s boy! Wow, you’re so handsome, didn’t know Liam would get so lucky.” Niall, or so Harry assumes, is now running a hand trough his curls, and he chuckles as naturally as he can.

“That’s me.”

“Niall, do not harass Liam’s whole!” a short boy with a mohawk and a lip piercing says, taking Niall’s hands off from Harry’s head.

Harry gives him a grateful smile, but adds, “S’ok.”

“He just gets wild sometimes. My name’s Josh. Josh Devine.” He introduces with a smile.

Harry returns it with a dimpled one of his own, “Harry Styles.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I guess. Was a bit excited, you know? Niall Horan at your service.”

“Nice to meet you. And don’t worry I’m excited too, Liam has said so much about you.”

“Hope nothing good!” he adds with a wink before Josh pinches his arm. Niall barely reacts though, and he’s off to hugging Liam in a heartbeat.

They go to the living room where Niall grabs them all a couple of beers (or really, he goes to grab Harry a beer while he and Josh drink up the rest of the six pack; Liam doesn’t drink).

They talk for a while and Harry has an honest to god goo time with them. He also observes how Niall and Josh gravitate towards and around each other, it’s a spectacle really, how they complement each other so well, how they are, undoubtedly, each other’s whole. He hopes other people see Liam and him that way too.

It is after an hour that there’s a knock on the door.

“Oh. Were you expecting anyone else, Niall?” Liam, the oh-so-always-sensible asks his friend.

“Yes! Remember Louis?” Niall replies as he stands up, making a beeline towards the door.

“No.”

“Well, he’s here.” He laughs.

“Uni friend.” Josh offers in explanation. Liam nods while Harry listens Niall loudly greet the newcomer who laughs loudly in return.

Josh rolls his eyes and takes a big gulp from his beer, “Those boys.”

“I heard that, Joshypoo!” a silvery voice says as a short boy comes running in and throws himself on top of Josh.

Josh  _oomph_ s and the new boy laughs once again. Liam stares wide eyed at the display, but Harry erupts in laughter at the sight of a flustered Josh.

At the sound of Harry’s laugh the boy, Louis, looks up with a smile.

“Oh, and who might you be?” he asks curiously, perching himself on Josh’s lap who sighs as if this is an everyday occurrence.

“Liam Payne, nice to meet you.” Liam extends his arm out in greeting. Louis looks at it funny, but grabs it and replies with a mock serious expression, “Louis Tomlinson, likewise.”

He then laughs and Harry can’t help but notice the small crinkles that form around his eyes. His blue, blue eyes.

“And you, curly haired lad?”

Harry forgets to answer for a moment, but then notice Liam’s expectant eyes, and turns to Louis, “Harry Styles.”

“Nice name! Proper of a rock star…are you a rock star?”

“What?” Harry laughs, “No.”

“Oh, shame, with those curls.”

Harry smiles brightly at him, and for a moment, feels the urge to glance at Liam, but only finds him looking at Niall, who doesn’t come back to the living room alone. He is, more calmly now, talking to a tanned boy with dark, dark hair. He is very pretty and Harry wonders who he is.

Louis, as if reading his thoughts, says brightly, “Harold, Liam Payne, this beauty over here is Zayn Malik.”

The dark haired boy waves at them with a small smile and takes a seat next to Louis, who is still on top of Josh.“H’llo.”

“Move over, freak.” Niall eloquently and kindly says to Louis who does so without complaint and hangs— _hangs_ —to Zayn’s neck.

Harry keeps watching curiously at the pair, and it seem that he is not the only one.

“Are you two life mates?” Liam suddenly asks. Yes, Harry wants to know that too. He doesn’t know why, but he wants to know too.

Louis stares at Liam for about five seconds before Zayn splutters out a laugh, Louis looks at him and then laughs loudly too.

Liam turns red and looks at Harry, who shrugs in response.

“Sorry, it’s just…me and Zayn? He’s just my best mate… unfortunately.” Louis tries to faux kiss Zayn who slaps him playfully on the shoulder, still laughing.

“Oh, sorry! I just thought…well, Niall and Josh, me and Harry...sorry, I guess.”

“Nah, it’s ok.” Zayn dismisses him with a wave.

“So you two are wholes, then?” Louis asks them scrutinizing them both.

“Yes. Have you been partnered up then?” Harry asks back.

Louis breaks out into a smile, “Of course. I know I seem young, but I’m actually nineteen, so, it’s been two years with her.”

Harry nods while trying to picture Louis’ other half, he imagines a lively girl who gets into as much trouble as Louis seems to get in. He squeezes Liam’s arm.

“And you Zayn?” He instead asks.

He doesn’t expect Zayn to answer what he does, “Didn’t get partnered up.”

He says it with so much nonchalance Harry can’t quite believe it.

Zayn is a Broken.

A Broken is someone who didn’t get a partner, for whatever reason it may have been. Brokens are rare, and most people turn their noses at them as its seen as a sort of incapacity. It is not illegal, as they can’t control it, but they can never be with anyone else, whether be another Broken, or a Widow.

Zayn doesn’t seem to care what Harry or Liam think, but Louis feels otherwise.

“Is there a problem?” he asks rather coldly, now gazing at them with slits on his eyes.

“No! Not a problem.” Harry answers truthfully. He feels Liam tense up and Harry almost believes for a second his whole will reproach Zayn, but instead says, “No, there isn’t.” with big wide eyes. Harry smiles at him and remembers why Liam got partnered up with him.

“Goodie.” Louis smiles now turning his attention to Niall and Josh, who had been watching silently the spectacle in front of them.

Zayn nods at them slowly before listening to what Louis is dramatically saying and Harry can’t help but feel as if he’s passed some test. He feels quite accomplished.

After that, the conversation flows wonderfully between the six of them. They talk about everything; from where they are (everyone is from outside of London except for Josh), to their families (everyone’s got sisters but Niall), to what they’re studying.

It is in that particular topic that Harry ends up agreeing to meet up with Louis later in the week.

As it turns out, Louis is studying Historic preservation, and works, as part of his degree, in the London’s Library helping archive old documents, most of them being books centuries old.

“Oh! Harry loves old books!” Liam chimes in, “Tell him, Harry!”

Harry bashfully nods, “Particularly archaic fairy tales, if I’m honest.”

Louis grins, showing his sharp little teeth, and Harry can’t help but feel endeared at this lovely boy, “Brilliant! There’s a lot of them in the section I work in. I’m particularly more interested on the non-fiction historical books from that same age, but I do love a good ol’ children’s tale.”

Harry is about to protest that they’re  _not children’s_  tales, when Louis adds, “You should come by this Thursday Harry, there’ll be no supervisor that day and you can browse through if you like.”

Liam nods excitedly, “That’s really cool, Harry go.”

Everyone is looking at him expectantly, but he stares only at Louis, who, if Harry can tell, is slightly smirking in response.

“Sure.” He shrugs, still not taking his eyes off the blue eyed boy.

Liam rubs at his arm absent mindedly and Harry is brought back from blue eyes to reality. He locks eyes with Liam who asks, “You ok, babe?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” He stutters out and feels incredibly guilty when he notices the lack of mischief on his brown eyes. However, Liam turns back to talk to Zayn and Harry can feel another pair of eyes penetrating through his skull. He slowly turns around, already knowing what he’ll see, and sees Louis still looking at him, face unreadable.

He can’t help but stare back.

A few minutes pass by and Louis only breaks the eye contact to say, “Hey, Ni, what’s up 221B? Like, what?”

“What do you mean?” Niall replies blankly.

Louis sighs in exasperation, “Hello? 221B Baker Street?”

“Alright.” Zayn says woodenly. “Whatever you say, Lou.”

Harry chuckles, getting the reference and remembering thinking the same thing, Louis looks back at him with a huge grin.

“Amazing, curly, amazing.” He shakes his head.

Amazing, indeed.

//

It is freezing Thursday afternoon, and Harry is wearing his warmest coat, a scarf, and mittens.

He usually doesn’t walk near the streets of downtown London (you really can’t blame him, he hasn’t lived there for long, after all), but he knows it’s usually not deserted, nor that cold for that matter.

It is after he almost slips to the floor because of the frozen pavement beneath his feet, that he notices a short figure in front of the Library. He knows who he is before really focusing on him, and Harry grins as Louis waves at him.

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t been nervous about seeing the older boy again, or that he didn’t think of cancelling their meet up, but there he is and Harry is buzzing with excitement.

He walks towards the Library and can see Louis more clearly now, he’s all bundled up, just like Harry is, his nose is a bit red, his skin pallid with cold, but he’s wearing a beanie that covers most of his feathery brunet hair and is wearing a huge grin on his face so it mustn’t be that bad.

“Hi, Louis.” He greets when he gets to the other boy.

“You look really cold, let’s get inside, mate.” Louis instead replies as he ushers Harry through the crystal doors.

Harry gets wide eyed as he looks around the library; it is giant, with three floors all surrounded by books, pristine and elegant with chandeliers hanging from the roof. “There are a lot of books in here.” He eloquently whispers.

Louis gives a small laugh, “Yeah, it  _is_ the London’s Library, Harold. And don’t whisper, there’s, like, no one here.”

Harry notices that too, the library is completely deserted, much like the streets were, “Where’s everyone? Did they just leave a student here to roam around the place?” he asks incredulously raising his eyebrows at Louis.

Louis rolls his eyes, “Of course not, there’s like,  _two_  other people here, I think. Everyone else went to a meeting…or so they say, but I think they just went to get booze for the whole day and left the interns to take care of the place.”

“So you are in charge?”

“Not really, Ms. Adams is taking care of the place; I’m just here to ‘supervise’ the History department.” Louis adds as he leads Harry towards one of the staircases to the left.

Harry tries not to focus on Louis’ hand on his and instead looks around the place.

“Here we are,” Louis replies proudly when they get to a smaller room filled with hundreds upon hundreds of books, “The Historical Books Room.”

“This is really sick.” Harry smiles as he beholds at the room. Louis flashes him a small smile.

“Yes, yes, and it’s all mine.” He winks. “You said you like fairy tales, right?”

Harry blushes, but nods awkwardly all the same.

“Well, there they are.” Louis points at one of the smaller shelves by the corner of the room. “I haven’t spend much time in there but there’s quite a few really good stories.”

Harry walks to the shelf and instantly recognizes some of the books: there’s Cinderella, Snow White, Alice in Wonderland. Harry smiles and goes to grab one of the olden books.

Louis walks towards him and grabs another one “My favorite one is Beauty and the Beast. Lovely story, that one.”He grabs the book from the shelf and hands it to Harry for him to look at.

“Mine’s One Hundred and One Dalmatians.” Harry replies fondly.

Louis laughs, and Harry is not sure if it’s the magic of being surrounded by his childhood books, or if it’s the silence of the library, perhaps the cold of winter (maybe it’s just Louis), but Harry can’t help but think the other boy’s laugh is one of the prettiest sounds he has ever heard. Chiming like little bells.

“It’s there, somewhere.”

“What do you like to do here, then, Louis?” Harry asks because his former thoughts were going places Harry didn’t like.

“Well, when I’m not being worked to death you mean? I’m into reading about how people used to live, you know?”

“Really?” Harry asks curiously, sitting on one of the elegant looking couches, Louis on tow.

“Yes, it’s really,  _really_  interesting, They were very different from us.” Louis starts moving his hands dramatically, and maybe Harry is just crazy, but he swears Louis’ eyes get brighter.

“You seem to know a lot about them, all I really like are the books.”

“You seemed to know your Sherlock Holmes very well.” Louis smiles at him.

“Those were my mum’s favorite books, so yeah.”

“I’m actually surprised you know so much about olden literature, those books are  _centuries_  old. Most people haven’t even heard of them.”

“It’s all my mum, really. When I was really small I used to believe in them really bad.” Harry bashfully says with a smile as he looks at his lap.

Harry can feel Louis study him for a minute before adding, “Well, they are based on ancient cultures, you know?”

“What do you mean? Talking teacups and devious mice?” Harry scoffs.

Louis nudges at the green eyed boy’s shoulder, “No, I mean like…I don’t know how to explain this…”

“Try.” Harry pouts.

“They found their whole just by chance.”

Harry looks at him curiously, “What?”

“Yeah, without tests, and fingerprints and all that.”

“Really? Like, in  _real life_?”

“Yes.” Louis blinks.

“How did I not know about this? How do  _you_  know?”

Louis rolls his eyes, and Harry does not,  _does not_ , notice they’re inching closer to each other.

“It’s not common to know, but this is what I’m studying, Haz.”

“Oh.” Is all Harry says trying to picture how the people of back then must’ve lived. “Why did it stop then?”

Louis seems to stop and think for a moment, scowling a bit, “I suppose it wasn’t working for them. I mean, do you imagine finding Liam just like that?”

Harry ponders for a moment, “No.”

“Yeah, it’s easier this way, I think. Imagine marrying someone who’s not your life mate. We just evolved, I guess, saved us a lot of trouble.”

Harry hums in agreement.

It is not by chance or destiny, he thinks, it is  _not_.

“Did you also know that England was reined by an  _actual_ queen?”

“What? Like from the books?”

Louis nods as if it’s the most unbelievable thing ever.

“Hey, what do you say we get out of here and get some cake?” Louis stands up and smiles down at Harry. “You can check out that book if you like.” He says, pointing to the book Harry still has on his hands. Beauty and the Beast.

Harry grins at him, “Ok, lead the way, Tomlinson.”

Once again Louis laughs, and Harry still thinks it’s a beautiful sound.

//

Before going to bed that night, and while Liam is in the shower, Harry takes the book from the library out of his satchel.

He contemplates it; it’s very old, the cover will fall to pieces if you’re not too careful, the spine is weak from the years of use, and the pages are now more yellow than white, but it’s still gorgeous, Harry thinks.

The cover is full of purple and pink hues, there’s a woman with a flower crown and a flowing dress dancing with, well, a  _beast_ , but his face is smiling and serene and Harry likes it. He can see why Louis would too.

Louis.

He remembers his earlier conversation with the boy, remembers what he said and it’s been all Harry has had on his mind since then.

He also remembers what his mother had said,  _they’re just fairy tales, Harry_. Harry laughs and takes a mental note to tell her when he visits Holmes Chapel that it’s actual history.

Then he goes back and remembers what Louis had said, about Harry finding Liam without the tests and so. He had said no, but…if it’s real love, if he is meant to be with Liam, then he supposes that he would find his way to him, somehow. Just like in the books. Unless—

“What are you doing, babe?” Liam surprises him as he comes out of the shower, towel tied to his waist.

Harry blushes, and he would like to think that it’s because his whole is half naked and wet in front of him, but he sort of knows, deep down.

“Nothing. Just…checked this book out of the library.” Harry says instead, showing the book to Liam.

Liam scrunches up his eyebrow, “That’s ancient, H.” He laughs.

Harry sighs, “Yes. It is.”

Liam puts on his pajamas pants while Harry bites his lip in annoyance. “Hey, Li?”

“Hm?” Liam asks absent mindedly.

“Louis—”

“ _Louis_.” If there is a slight bitter tone to how Liam says Louis’ name, no one notices it. Or so Harry tries not to notice.

“Louis invited us to the pier downtown this weekend. Want to go?”

“Sure.” He says amicably, “Just us?”

Harry shakes off his head, “Us two, and him and his whole.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Okay.”

“Now let’s sleep cause tomorrow we have to rise up early for class.”

Harry looks down at his book, wishing he’d have time to read it, “Yeah, let’s sleep.”

//

Saturday comes agonizingly slowly to Harry, he doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or otherwise, but either way, Saturday is the day he and Liam will meet up with Louis.

He is sitting on one of the benches beside the giant lake, Liam is sitting next to him, glasses perched up on his nose and cellphone on his hands.

“Who are you texting, Li?” Harry asks, noticing the face of concentration on his whole’s face.

“Zayn.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, “Zayn? Louis’ friend?”

Liam looks up to Harry, “Yes. We exchanged numbers last time. Is that alright?”

“Yeah, yeah! He was nice, really liked him.”

“He’s very interesting.” He smiles, “Also, when is Louis arriving? It’s past five and—”

As if on cue, the short boy squeals from a few meters where he is standing.

“Mates!” he waves. Next to him there is a tall, pretty girl holding his hand.

“Harry!” he runs and almost knocks both of them to the floor with the sheer force of the impact.

“H’llo Louis.” He gasps out, “You can let go of me now.”

Louis laughs, but does so, he turns around and smiles at Liam, “Hello to you too, Liam Payne.”

“Hello, Louis.” Liam nods.

Louis then turns around and motions for the pretty girl to come over, “Don’t be shy, babe, come here.”

“This is Eleanor, my whole.” Louis grins taking hold of her hand. “El, this is Harry and his whole Liam.”

Eleanor offers them a handshake and a smile, “Harry, I’ve heard quite a lot about you.”

“No you haven’t.” Louis replies hotly, making Harry look at him oddly.

“Yeah, you’re the one with the fairy tale penchant, right?”

Harry blushes, “Yeah.” Then looks at Louis with a smirk, “Didn’t know you were talking much about me.”

“I haven’t, I just mentioned you once. El likes to exaggerate.” Now it’s Louis’ turn to blush.

After Louis tells them they should go around and take a look at the stands before getting dinner, both couples make their way round the pier.

It is, again, very easy for the conversation to flow. Liam and Louis seem to both have a thing for comic stories, and Harry finds that Eleanor is a very sweet girl.

He remembers imagining Louis’ Whole as a lively, loud and over confident girl, very much like Louis. Instead, Eleanor is elegant, prim and laughs in all the right places. Harry can’t help but frown at that, but supposes it makes sense, Louis needs someone who can calm him down; like Liam and Harry for example, whenever the curly haired boy gets a bit too excited or hyper active, Liam is there to calm him down, like an anchor. He supposes wholes are supposed to work that way.

More often than not, whenever Louis is talking to Liam, or Harry is talking to Eleanor, his eyes always find Louis’ (he refuses to think of them as magnets), and whenever that happens, Louis gives him a small secret smile, sometimes a smirk, and Harry finds himself returning it.

“Did you know—” Louis starts, but Eleanor interrupts.

“God, no, here we go again.”

“Shut up, Eleanor.” Louis frowns. “I’m very interesting.”

“Fine, go ahead.” She raises her hands in surrender.

“ _Did you know_  that way before our times there weren’t any piers here in London?”

“What. Why?” Liam asks curiously, and Harry watches them both with an indulgent smile.

“Because, Liam Payne, there weren’t any beaches here.”

“What about the lake?”

“This lake was built in order to have a pier. There weren’t any artificial piers before.”

“Wow.” Liam says in amazement and Louis nods.

“I’m hungry.” Eleanor interrupts, “We should start looking for a place to eat.”

“There are still stands for us to look at.” Louis whines with a pout.

“But I’m hungry and  _tired_ , my feet hurt.” Eleanor retorts back.

“Well, I could go with Lou and finish off the stands, and Eleanor, you and Liam could go start looking for food and a place to sit.” Harry cuts in.

Liam shrugs, “Yeah, we could do that Eleanor. Fine by you?”

“Ok. Just don’t take too long, Louis.” She says, already making her way to were the small restaurants were the food was located, Liam trying to keep up with her leaving Louis and Harry alone.

“Cool. Now let’s take a look.” Louis grins brightly up at him and grabs Harry by the wrist, leaving a warm trace behind.

“Ok.” Harry replies breathlessly.

Louis laughs unabashedly, throwing his head back and Harry follows him.

“There’s really not a lot in these stands.” Hums Louis as they walk slowly along the pier.

“You find the best things were you least expect them.” Harry replies sagely.

Louis looks at him, his tiny smile crinkles making an appearance, “Look at you, all wised up.”

“Of course. You know me.”

They kept browsing through the stands, but both boys found themselves more immersed with each other, talking about nothing and everything at all.

“So…” Harry started.

“ _So_.”

“Eleanor’s nice. Really nice girl.”

“She is. Got lucky on the life mate department.” Louis replies in agreement.

“Aren’t we all?” Harry says with a roll of eyes before he knows what he’s doing.

The thing is, Eleanor  _is_  nice, he shouldn’t act the way he is. He doesn’t know  _why_  he is acting the way he is.

Instead, Louis says in return, “Liam’s really nice too.”

“He has abs.” Harry says seriously.

Louis bursts out laughing, “Good for you, Curly.”

As they keep on walking Harry notices a stand full of bracelets and necklaces and he exclaims as he points to the place, “Let’s go over there, Lou.” He doesn’t know since when Louis became  _Lou_ , but it seems to not matter because Louis goes with it, and then they’re off to the last stand.

The little place is even smaller that the other stands, it is the last one, and so many people are not roaming around like on the first part of the pier. The old man taking care of the place nods and gives them a smile.

Harry starts browsing through, noticing a lot of bracelets with pieces of shells and colorful rocks, he’s getting at least two out of every box, admiring with bright eyes and a smile. There’s also necklaces with the United Kingdom’s flag made out of glass, and he’s about to grab one of them when he hears Louis squeal.

When he turns around to look at his friend, he sees Louis is already staring at him. “Harry, look!” Louis says, showing a golden bracelet on his hand.

Harry scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. “Um. You like it?”

“The engraving. Look at it.” He gives the bracelet to Harry who tries to read the tiniest print ever.

_Dieu et mon droit._

“That’s…french.”

Louis grasps back the bracelet forcefully, “Literally, it means  _God and my right hand_  or  _My Divine Right_. It used to be the motto of the British monarch back when they had _queens_ , Harry. It was on the coat of arms. This thing is ancient!”

Harry raises a single eyebrow, “You really  _are_ smart, aren’t you?”

Louis shrugs as he puts it back to the small, hidden box he found it in.

He doesn’t know what a coat of arms is, or why Louis is excited, but, “I’ll buy it for you.”

Louis looks back at Harry wide eyed, but before he can protest, Harry is motioning at the old man he’d like to buy the bracelet.

“You don’t have to, Haz.”

Harry’s heart swells up at the nickname. “I don’t, but I want to. You took me to the library, I’ll buy you this.”

“It’s just what friends do.” Louis protests.

“Exactly.”

Louis huffs out in annoyance, but it doesn’t last long before Harry is surreptitiously putting the bracelet on Louis’ wrist.

Harry stares at Louis, who is looking at the bracelet as if it’s the eighth wonder of the world. He smiles, it feels good, and giddy.

Harry is still oblivious as to what he’s feeling, but it’s there and it will just keep on growing. He knows it.

//

The day at the pier is the first of many, many times where Louis and Harry hang out. Harry doesn’t know when it happened, but suddenly, they get referred to as HarryandLouis. He knows it’s usually not that way, that it should be LouisandEleanor or HarryandLiam, but Liam doesn’t seem to mind and Louis hasn’t mentioned Eleanor so it seems to be fine.

Even one day, as they walked through the park, just both of them, an old lady approached them and said how lovely they were, how cute soul mates they were. Harry had blushed and found he didn’t mind the mistake, Louis corrected her and the lady went from smiling to wide eyed and scared. When she left, both boys bursted out laughing, even though the denial (which was the truth anyway) left a bitter taste on his mouth.

And Harry wasn’t a fool, he now knew what it was he was feeling. He was more than scared, but found out soon enough that he couldn’t stop; that he didn’t want to stop.

Whenever Liam looks at him curiously or kisses him and Harry finds himself pulling away too quickly, he can feel the vile guilt rise up his throat, even though he knows he has done nothing wrong. Suddenly the kisses become fewer and fewer and Harry fears Liam knows what Harry thinks whenever Louis enters a room. Except he can’t, right? Impossible.

Today they decided that they were going to eat pizza and watch a movie. Just Louis, Harry…and Zayn and Liam. Harry frowns a bit, it seems that Liam spends an awful lot of time with Zayn too, but he won’t complain.

They try and watch some movie about alien invading the planet, courtesy of Louis of course, but none of them seem to be watching it, all four of them more involved in a debate on who is the better actor or something. Harry, although fiercely voicing his thoughts, can’t seem to keep his eyes away from Louis. It is when Liam catches him, that he stops. He feels a flush coming his way, and excuses himself to get some water.

When he gets there, he hears steps behind him, for a moment he thinks perhaps it’s Liam who came to question him, but turns around a finds himself face to face with Zayn.

It’s not like he doesn’t like Zayn, he does, it’s just never the two of them alone.

“Hi, Zayn.”

“Hello, Harry. You look a bit red.”

“It’s hot, I feel hot.” he tries lying.

Zayn nods, and if Harry didn’t know better, he’d think Zayn is trying to hide a smile.

“So.”

“So.”

“You seem to be spending an awful time with Louis.” Zayn replies.

Harry’s eyes become slits, “And you with Liam.”

Zayn bursts out laughing.

“What?” Harry asks, confused.

“Oh, God, Harry. You are a bit clueless, aren’t you?”

“No…I—What _are_ you on about?”

Zayn pats him on the back, Harry finds a bit condensing and frowns.

“I think me and Liam will head out to get more pizza, yeah?”

“Why don’t we just order?”

“It’ll be faster if we go.” he then leaves the kitchen, and minute later Harry hears the front door open and close.

Harry grumps and feels as if he’s missing something, he just doesn’t know what. He finishes his drink in a gulp and goes back to the living room, where Louis is still sitting and eating away a slice of pizza. Harry thinks he’s very cute.

He sits next to him, closer than where he was before going to the kitchen, he can almost feel the heat coming from Louis.

“They went to get some pizza.” Louis helpfully says.

“Yeah, they told me. Zayn’s been acting weird.”

Louis looks up from his pizza, “Really? Didn’t notice. You do like him, right? Can’t have you two boys fighting.”

“Ah, no, yeah, he’s fine. Like him.”

Louis nods and gives him a smile of approval. “I’ve got another book for you, Hazza.”

Harry grabs another slice of pizza and then looks at Louis, raising an eyebrow in question. “Yeah? Which one?”

“Well, you liked _Harry Potter_ so I got something similar, it’s called _The Lord of the Rings_. It’s a fantasy novel, epic fantasy. It’s one of my favorites.”

“It sounds weird…Lord of the Rings?”

“ _You_ are dumb.”

“Never said it was dumb, just—”

“Your hair’s dumb.”

“Well, that just hurt, thanks Chop Suey.”

Harry laughs as Louis tries to wipe the tomato off his chin and lips with a frown.

The younger boy thinks he hasn’t seen someone look as cute as Louis in that moment, not even Liam, and that may be— _may_ be— the reason why he scoots closer to Louis, so close that their sides are completely touching and wipes, oh so slowly, the sauce off his face.

He watches Louis catch his breath, knows that he is having some sort of effect on the other boy. Harry has never been this scared, nor this nervous, not even the day he received Liam’s name, but he also has never felt anything so _right_ and in place.

He is barely breathing as he watches Louis’ eyes look down to his lips; he knows Louis is feeling it too, and it seems as if the world, time and space, has suddenly stopped just for them. Harry looks up an ion of a second, still with his hand on Louis’ cheek, and his eyes lock with Louis’.

He then kisses him.

Louis gasps into the soft, soft kiss. Their lips are barely grazing, and Harry feel his lips tremble, but it’s better than anyone has ever told him it would feel like. It’s better than any of Liam’s heated kisses, and he whimpers into the kiss with this realization. Louis is the one who deepens the kiss, and this seems to erase all doubt Harry had felt.

 How could…How could it feel so right? How could it feel this way when Louis is not his whole?

Could it be that—

“ _Shit_. What the fuck are you doing, Harry?” Louis suddenly stands up, towering above Harry. His eyes are wide open, and his hand is covering his mouth, as if trying to prevent Harry for kissing him further.

“Louis, I thought—” Harry stammers, feeling nauseous and lightheaded.

“No you did not. You did not think.” He glares angrily, almost shouting, but then whispers frantically, “We…we could go to prison for this.”

“No, but perhaps they’re wrong, Louis! Perhaps you are my soul m—

“Seriously, Harry, stop it! I don’t know what you’re doing, but stop it! Your soul mate is Liam and mine is Eleanor so just shut up. Just leave me alone.” Louis replies, as he flees from the apartment, leaving his shoes and coat behind.

Harry is still sitting on the couch, feeling breathless, as if all energy has left his body. His face is pale, and he wants to cry because how could he be so stupid as to kiss Louis. And to even think Louis would reciprocate his feelings. How could he think Louis would ever leave Eleanor, his _soul mate_ , his _whole_? How could the beautiful, debonair Louis reciprocate his feelings?

Then there was Liam. God, Liam. How could he do this to Liam?

But what makes it even more horrible, what makes it worse, is that he’d do it all over again. If it meant he could kiss Louis all over again, to feel his lips pressed to his, he’d do it all over again.

//

 

It is the very next day and Harry has stayed in his room all day. Liam hadn’t questioned it, the poor benefic Liam, and Harry had been grateful though it only had made him feel worse.

He hadn’t talked to anybody after Louis left, not even when Zayn and Liam had come back to the flat. He only gave them a flimsy excuse about stomachache or something he can’t quite remember. It seemed to do the trick because they left him alone for the rest of the day.

He has now spent the first half of the day, miserably staring at his room’s ceiling, still in yesterday’s clothes, and thinking _why the fuck can’t I have a fairy tale ending?_

 It is highly unfair, and just…stupid. Just when he is about to moan this out loud, let out some steam, there’s a knock on the door.

It can only be one person, and this only makes Harry want to start sobbing again.

There’s another knock, this one louder, “H? Can I come in?”

“No. Stomach still hurts. Want to sleep.” Harry replies, trying to sound convincing.

He hears a heavy sigh on the other side of the door. “Sorry. I’m gonna come in anyway.”

“Liam—” Harry tries to stop him, but to no avail, Liam comes stroding in. He is wearing a white tank top, loose blue jeans, and combat boots. Harry wonders where the pristine looking fellow with the hairless jaw and the flannel shirts went to.

Liam sits gingerly by his side on the bed.

“It’s just a stomachache, seriously, Li, nothing—”

“Shut up. Let me talk. I need to talk to you, Harry.” He says, never breaking eye contact with Harry.

“You sound serious.”

“It is serious.”

Harry is confused, and for a brief moment he wonders if it has something to do with the kiss he shared with Louis the day before. “Ok, do talk.”

Liam visibly relaxes. “You know how my family—how I come from a very traditional family, how I was raised up a certain way.” Harry nods, not knowing where that was going.

“I was taught, since little, how Widows or…Brokens, or anything that wasn’t Wholes, really, was bad and repulsive and whatnot.”

“I don’t know why you’re telling me this, Liam.”

Liam shushes him with a finger. “The day we met Louis and Zayn, and knew that Zayn was a Broken…I didn’t know what to think. I mean, Zayn seemed to be a nice guy, but…he was a _Broken_. I did not know what to do so I just stayed quiet, I wanted to make a good impression, after all.”

Harry is still confused, but this time doesn’t interrupt and nods Liam to continue.

“And then I started talking to Zayn and learned that…that he was cool, and really nice and nothing like I thought he’d be, right? And I realized, why do we act this way? And then I just forgot whichever fucking rules or prejudice they taught us and it was like…like a blindfold was taken from me, and I could _see_.” Liam smiles with bright eyes.

He then takes Harry’s hands with his, “And then I saw you Harry.”

“I don’t—I don’t get it.” Harry stammers out, looking at every inch of Liam’s face as if somehow a twitch of an eyebrow would explain to him whatever it is Liam is trying to tell him.

Liam continues softly, “I saw you Harry, I saw you with Louis. How you two acted around each other, how you orbited so perfectly around each other. How you _looked_ at him. I thought I was imagining things at first, but then I remember seeing something like that somewhere else: in Niall and Josh. And then I knew. I knew you were—are in love with Louis, and he loves you back.”

Harry feels all his breath leave him like a punch in the gut, like freezing water on an early morning. He feels himself leave his own body, dread and somehow hope intertwined together in his soul. He sobs out, “Liam, no, it’s not what you think.”

Liam is softly smiling, and there it is again, _hope_.

“You don’t need to deny it, H. I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?” Harry whispers, not believing a word Liam is saying. Is this a dream and Harry somehow fell asleep while being miserable?

“No. I mean, I kinda was, at the beginning. But how could I be mad when my best friend is falling in love? And that’s the fucking thing Harry. It’s not wrong, love is _never_ wrong.” Liam then takes a big breath, and Harry knows whatever Liam is saying is not over.

“Zayn knows people. He knows other Brokens, some Widows, some…nonconformists, I guess. There’s a lot.”

“Nonconformists?”

Liam nods, “Just people that are against this system, that hate the government. Renegades. It’s sort of cool.” Liam smiles so big and giddy that his eyes become tiny slits, Harry’s heart swell a bit, because, yeah, that is his best friend.

“Continue, Liam.” Harry says a bit more frantically, now that the words his friend is saying are catching up to him

“Well, there were about fifty, at the most, but then I helped him contact more people. Here in London? There’s about at least two hundred people, Harry.  Just here in London! There’s a lot more people in other cities.”

“Why are you saying this Liam?” Harry questions Liam, Louis on the back of his mind, still there, but not quite the first thing on his mind.

“In three days, we’re getting the Palace of Wholes. All two hundred of us.”

“ _What_? Like, with guns and stuff?”

“I don’t think so…well, maybe. The government _knows_ Harry, they know something’s up, something big. And they’re scared.” Liam whispers and it does sound like something big, something huge, Harry gets goose bumps.

“You’re like…like a proper insurgency now? And how did I not know about this?”

“I did not know when to tell you. But Zayn, he told me Louis told—”

“He told you about the kiss.”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

The kiss affair still hurts, but now his mind is much more preoccupied. With everything Liam has told him, Harry’s problems seem to be so small in comparison. But it is just like Liam described it: like a blindfold is being taken off Harry’s eyes.

“Don’t be. Please.” he replies softly, getting up his bed with a renewed force he didn’t know he could get, “Does Louis know about this?”

 “Zayn told him yesterday. Louis, he—he knows it’s wrong, he just…seems to be scared. I think you scare him a bit, Harry.”

“It’s all right. This just seems to be a lot to take in, I guess. This is…this is huge, we’re talking about a revolution here, Liam! Did you— _Did you organize all this_?”

“With Zayn, I guess. A couple of people helped too.”

Liam shrugs, but Harry has known Liam for almost a year now and he knows when he really believes in something. Then again, Liam had always been quiet, a pacifist, Harry would have never, ever guessed he’d lead an insurgency against the government.

“How many people know about this?”

“Like I said, the government knows something’s up, and you know, all the underground people, other insurgents in other cities, of course. Word has it that if we’re successful, other cities will try the same.”

“Shit.” whispers Harry, grabbing a tight hold on his curls as he paces the room.

“Harry?” Liam asks tentatively.

“I want in.” Harry then says, with fierceness in his eyes. “I want in, Liam. I want to do this.”

“Are you sure, Harry? We could get in serious trouble if we get caught, we could go to prison.”

“I know. I’m in.”

Because, after all the fairy tales Harry has read and all the old novels he often dreamt about, he knows this could be his.

He can forge his own destiny, he could have his own fairy tale.

//

Three days turn into two, then into one, and then, it is finally the day Harry and the next of the insurgents will try and take the Palace of Wholes.

It is nerve wracking, and it’s all Harry can seem to think about. There’s endless possibilities about how it could all end, and he tries not to think about it, but death is one of them.

As it turns out, Niall and Josh are also part of the underground movement, and Harry is happy to know even people who were perfectly partnered agree with what they’re doing. He hasn’t seen Louis since the kiss, and from what Zayn had told him, he wasn’t coming with them that night.

“It’s fine, it’s going to be fine.” Niall tries to assure him as they leave his flat. Him, Niall, and Liam will arrive a bit after Zayn and Josh do.

According to Liam, they will not use weapons unless necessary, and only brute force at its minimum. Still, Harry is more than nervous. He doesn’t know if the police or guards will resist or if they’ll let them in easily.

The walk from Niall and Josh’s flat to the Palace of Wholes is not a lot, but they’re still walking quickly and swiftly, trying not to make a lot sound. Harry doesn’t know why, the Londoners are bound to know what’s happening once two hundred people gather around the centre of the city in a revolt. Zayn also said that maybe they could even gain a couple of new people if they saw what was happening. It seems that they might have chance, as crazy as it sounded.

Once they get there, it’s almost midnight, and most people are there, ready to march towards the palace and request what they want.

The sight is incredible, there’s all kinds of people, most of them young, but Harry can see adults and even older men and women, all united for a cause. He thinks this problem may not be new, like he thought.

They see Zayn, who is at the very front of the melting pot of people, he waves at them to come over.

Harry had never seen Zayn look so happy, so fierce, usually he was laid back and relaxed, he thinks it’s a good look on the already handsome boy. When he turns around to face Liam, he thinks Liam agrees with him; Harry tries not to smirk.

“So, how is this supposed to go? When do we start?” he asks his friend.

“In a couple minutes, we’re still waiting on a few people. We need to gather the most people we can.” Harry nods.

While he’s there, Liam and Niall introduce him to other ‘key members’ of the group. He meets Ed, a ginger who is ready to cause trouble; there’s Nick and Aiden, a couple like himself and Liam; there’s Cher, a trigger-happy Broken; there’s Mary, an angry Widow. And suddenly, this seems very real to Harry, this is just not some story or some characters, this is real life and real people and what they’re doing is _real_.

Zayn is yelling.

He doesn’t pay attention, the blood on his body is rushing to his face in adrenaline, the people around him are yelling in excitement, echoing with fists in the air whatever it is Zayn is saying. The night breeze suddenly becomes stronger, as if it were right by the side of the insurgents, ready to help. The chorus of people then becomes louder, and then they’re running towards the Palace of Wholes.

It happens so quickly, one moment he’s standing there trying to figure out what everyone’s saying, and the next, he’s running.

As soon as they get there, the police are over them, hitting them, punching them, everything to try and stop them from entering the building.

However, their actions are to no effect, because at the most, there are twenty police officers; they’re outnumbered.

Harry helps by pushing off the officers from other people, freeing them so that they can enter the building. He hears when a group of men break the glass doors with some rocks and rifle. There’s people screaming and Harry remembers the last time he was in that building. He grunts as he remembers how happy he’d been to be there, happy to be controlled like a robot. Angry, he pushes off another policeman and surges forward in front of the glass doors.

He sees Liam and Zayn enter the building, along with a couple more men. He turns around to see where Niall, Josh and the others are; Josh is being held up by two officers and he’s struggling to get out of their grips, but just when he’s about to go help him, Cher goes running to the rescue and punches one of them right in the face, freeing Josh. Harry can’t help but laugh in disbelief. He sees Ed and Niall holding up a couple of policemen so that other people can go inside the building. They’re doing pretty well.

But then he sees, in the distance, that more policemen are coming their way. Now there are at least fifty more of them, and they’re still winning in numbers, but with no doubt the police will have weapons. He panics for a moment, but then freezes when he sees, in the middle of all the chaos, right where the new policemen are coming, Louis is standing there.

He’s there, looking so tiny and a bit confused as if looking for something or someone, he seems to be ignorant of the policemen coming his way, so Harry does the only thing he can, he runs towards Louis.

It seems to be hopeless because for every step Harry takes, the armed policemen are two ahead, and closer to Louis. He gives out a strangled cry when they get to him.

Louis yells and tries to get them off, he’s strong, Harry knows this, but there are two of them and one of them is taking out his gun.

Harry feels all reasoning leave him as he jumps on top of the policeman, clawing at his face and kicking the gun away from them. He sees Louis cry in surprise but now that there’s only one policeman on him, he wriggles out of his grasp and punches him on the face. Both policemen are angry red, ready to attack and Harry sees more of them coming their way, but before they can do anything, Harry takes Louis’ hand and runs the direction opposite of the building.

Louis ends up being faster, and he’s the one who drags them through the very small and narrow streets of downtown London. Harry looks back and sees a couple of policemen still running after them and pants while forcing his tall legs to run faster.

The streets are now starting to fill with curious onlookers, and Harry hopes they help the cause. He thinks of Liam and Zayn still behind in the building, no doubt fighting and helping.

“Where are we going?” he gasps out.

Louis, still grabbing his hand, and still running, “I don’t know, we just need to lose them.”

They keep on running through the cold and gray streets of London until they’re not downtown, and there are no more policemen on their tails. Harry is running out of breath, not used to the exercise, but then turns to look at Louis who is unusually quiet.

When he looks up, Louis is already staring at him, and, although his face is red with the rush and is panting audibly, Harry thinks he looks lovely. Louis always looks lovely.

“Thanks.” Louis says, breaking the silence.

Harry nods, “What were you doing there? In the middle of all the havoc, I mean.”

Harry doesn’t know if Louis flushes, he’s already red and there’s not many light so it’s difficult to see.

“Zayn told me you’d be there.”

Harry’s breath wobbles, but he tries to steady it before saying, “You wanted to tell me something?”

Louis smiles, “No.”

“Oh.” And Harry feels the dread flowing through his pumping blood, the words of rejection still on his mind, and he’s waiting for them, but then.

But then Louis stands on his tip toes, grabs Harry by the neck, and pushes himself forward.

Harry feels the cold and cracked lips of Louis on his. He feels them move with hesitance, as if Louis is not sure he’s allowed to do this, but of course he is. Instead of telling him so, Harry kisses him back.

He feels so much in that kiss; he feels Louis’ words of apologies, he feels all the stories he knows by memory, he feels _why_ they’re fighting for over in the Palace of Wholes. He feels everything, and at the same time, all he feels is _Louis_.

His tongue connects with Louis’ and it burns, Louis’ lips burn, and yes, this feels right. He thinks kisses like those, so full of life and love are the ones that they mentioned on fairy tales, not the generic ones they wanted them to have under a perfect roof with a perfect life.

Because it is then that Harry realizes, perfect is not what they should be looking for, it is happiness that people should thrive for, for the fire he feels within him as he looks at Louis, for the feeling of drowning when they touch each other. They should not look for something easy, they should look for what their heart needs.

It feels like Harry is right where he belongs, with his mouth on Louis’, and his hands on his lithe hips and Harry wants Louis. He’s never felt that way with Liam, and now he’s completely sure he would never feel that way with anyone who is not the short boy with the playful eyes.

He feels reunited, as if once upon a time Louis and Harry had been mindless atoms floating in the universe, together, one. Now they’re together again and Harry feels complete. He smiles against the kiss, and so does Louis.

They’re in the middle of the street, but somehow, Harry knows this is exactly where he is supposed to be.

//

That same night, when it’s just not mouths together, but bodies as well and the sound of skin against skin is the only sound in the room apart from the small moans Louis makes with each slow thrust, the blue eyed boy feels something.

He’d never felt it before, he doesn’t’ know what it is, but then Harry’s hands intertwine with his, the boy hides his head on Louis’ neck, still panting, and the thrusts become more frantic, and then, he _knows_.

He feels… _whole_.

//

That night, the night were Harry and Louis got together was named The First Revolt of London. It goes down in history books, it is called by historians the origin of the British Modern Revolution. It is, in other words, the fuel that started the fire.

After London came Manchester, then Yorkshire, Nottingham, Liverpool, all of Britain. It lasts six years, but when it ends, it ends with the people of Britain free of tests, free of soul mates. Some are devastated, most are happy to be free once again. 

The names of Liam Payne and Zayn Malik are written in every history book for the next hundred years, they are known as the Downtown Rebels. Edward Sheeran is known as the Flame of the Land and Cher Lloyd as Mother of the British.

There are very few books that mention a Harry Styles, a valiant boy who helped the rebels and gave hell to the policemen, for he was not in the Palace of Wholes when they took over. Harry was making history of his own just on the other side of the city.                                     

It’s years later, when they’re proper adults, that Liam says something to his best friend Harry.

“You know, Harry, people keep saying that I’m the Spark of Revolution.” Liam starts.

Harry looks up from his book (a very worn copy of _The Fellowship of the Ring_ , a copy his Louis gave him years ago). “Fancy title, that one.”

Liam laughs, “They’re wrong.”

Harry smiles, “You’re too modest for your own good, Li.”

Liam shakes his head, “I never said this, but…no, Harry. I wasn’t the spark.”

Harry hums in question.

“It was you. The day you locked eyes with Louis, that was the day the revolution started.”

Harry opens his mouth on protest, but then he hears the door open and a certain blue eyed boy enters the living room, beside him, there is Zayn, still beautiful, but now with a little girl on his hand. The little girl runs to Liam and squeals out a _daddy!_

Harry smiles at the girl and her father, his best friend. He then feels a warm hand on his shoulder, it’s familiar, and fits perfectly.

He looks up, “Hey, babe.”

“Hey there, Haz.” Louis’ eyes are still bright, eternally bright and blue.

“Have I got something on my face?” he asks.

“No, you’re just fine.” Harry laughs.

He thinks that, if starting a revolution was what he had to do to be with Louis, then so be it.

//

the end.

**Author's Note:**

> phew. if you liked the story, pls comment or kudos bc those are really nice.


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